


The Effable Plan

by Kharis



Series: Better together [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 17:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19873570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kharis/pseuds/Kharis
Summary: Based on this idea [url=https://kharismon.tumblr.com/post/186255935339/kharismon-kharismon-i-was-thinking-what-if]Click[/url]What if all demons might be “nice” if they’ve got an angel? What if the big “no-no” in getting them together is because, at the end, they will not be able to hurt each other, if they know each other?I'm not an english native speaker, so I apologize in advance if I've brutally butchered the language ^^"





	The Effable Plan

Hastur stomped his way out of Hell, furious. Months passed after that fucked-up-big-times Apocalipse, and no one had the guts to do something. Of course, he too had a little break down after he saw Crowley pratically swimming in holy water, re-playing in his head the moment he faced him, in his house, after he killed Ligur. Really, at that time the spray bottle sounded like a fake, but now... Unholy Satan, he danced with the Death that day. That bottle was surely holy fucking water, the bastard was just immune! So, yes, he maybe took a little time out, crying in a dark corner. Maybe he still cried out loud when heard a splash of liquid, but, hey, beside that he was still a pretty badass demon. But now? Oh, for everything that was corruptible in Earth, he will have his revenge!  
  
  
Crowley was sitting -well, sprawling- on the sofa, at the bookshop, napping in the afteroon light. Aziraphale was out, buying groceries for the dinner (in the past weeks they had experimented with cooking instead of going out to eat and, after a few disastrous attempts -with a moderate fire put down with few miracles- they got quite good at it) leaving the demon all alone.  
  
_< Try not to bu... destroy the shop while I'm out, will you?> said the angel, carefully changing the words. He knew the vivid image of the flames engulfing the bookshop was still too painful for the other one to remember. Crowley did a half-shrug with his shoulders and hummed in agreement: he was banned to go again at the market, after he made one clerk almost cry because he was being "too much touchy" with Aziraphale_  
  
_< He was handing me the bags!>_  
  
_< Well, yes, I handed one to you too, I know what it means!>_  
  
_< IT WAS DIFFERENT>_  
  
He didn't hear a thing. Honestly, he didn't even understand what was happening until he found himself launched out of the sofa, crushing on the floor with a heavy weight on the chest, something tightly pressed on his neck. He didn't need to breath, so the thing only kept him down, blocked  
  
_"Aziraphale"_ was the only thought that passed in his mind, followed with a sense of relief. He was safe, out there  
  
<Hastur, my old friend, what brings you here?> croaked, with the little air that he could pass through the throat. The other demon let out a bitter laugh  
  
<I maybe will not be able to destroy you in the common way, but I can discorporate you and find you a cozy room in Hell, where you can suf...> he started to say, but a crackling sound cutted him out  
  
<I'd rather that you didn't, because then I will come and retrieve him, smiting everything that comes in my way to do so> the otherworldy calm of Aziraphale made him sound ten times more threatening. He put down the grocery bags, with extreme care, without ever letting the two out of his sight.  
  
Now, you have to understand. All the Angels were built to serve the Almighty, who with crafts, who with words and who with swords. Do not let you fool for his appearence, but Aziraphale was in the last group: he never really loved the job, but he did it pretty well, when asked. And, surely, he knew how to unleash divine wrath, let me tell you that.  
  
Although a person will never be frightened by the gentle looking angel, what his presence mean to the "other part" was dramatically different. Crowley never saw his angel like that, he was simply terryfing: like a storm ready to begin, like a sea minutes away from a seaquake, he was so damn beautiful to look at, that a tingling sensation started to grow in the demon, who set aside the thought for further inspection, maybe in the bedroom. For Hastur... well, it was different, so much that pratically jumped on his feet ready for... he didn't even know. What, fight a angel? A warrior angel? The Keeper of the East Gate? He was reckless, but not suicidal  
  
<He need to... you cannot... it's not how...> the words didn't really came out well from his mouth. He was trying to say something clever and witty, but in all honesty, he was also shitting bricks in that moment.  
  
At least Crowley was safe, a look full of concern scanned him to see if he was harm in any way. Maybe some minor bruises, nothing big, thank God. After that, the angel rapidily thought of what needed to be done: killing Hastur? Sure, was the easiest option. But then? Another demon might come for revenge... or worse, what if killing him started a war? What if angels too started to come down, searching for them? It would never end and all that Aziraphale wanted is to stay an eternity with his demon, not continuously running, hiding, fighting... he let out a sigh and gesticulate toward the armchairs, snapping back the sofa with a quick miracle  
  
<Please, sit down> said, with all the kindness he could muster, in the situation. Crowley was back on is feet too, lookig a little wrinkled but alright  
  
<If you think that I will stay here and be smooth talked by a fucking angel you can...>  
  
<I said **SIT DOWN** > the voice rumbled in the room, shaking the shelves and knocking down few tomes from their precarious place. The Word was spoken, both the demons quickly sit in the first armchair avaible and the sensation in Crowley grow, always fond and a little -or more- turned on. He made another mind note: let the angel rule the game, because by the stars, he needed more of this.  
  
For Hastur, again, it was a cold shower. He was trembling now, all the self-confidence washed away in a second. He couldn't get up, even if he tried and was baffled to see the other one perfecty calm, with his damn blessed smirk on, looking at the angel like he was... hungry? It seemed like he wasn't a bit worried that a celestial being just used the Word on them. On the contrary, he was rather thrilled by it  
  
<Aziraphale... never thought you could do the big voice> the pratically purred, getting more confortable  
  
<Oh, you... I don't enjoy it> the other responded, little pink spot rising on the cheeks. He knew his demon very well and that look... well, everyone could tell what was on his mind, he was not being subtle at all.

<I'm sorry, Hastur, really. But you need to understand, I simply cannot live without Crowley, so I cannot allow you or anyone to take him from me.> Aziraphale started to explain, searching for the best words to convince the other but it was really difficult. He miracled some tea and biscuits to ease the process, although Duke of Hell wasn't really "in the mood" with all that was going on  
  
<I swear, it's not blessed or anything, you can eat> snorted the redhead, sipping his coffee (of course, the angel knew that he would prefer it)  
  
<Well, I don't trust you! And also, you're immune, so it's not a big deal, or not?> snarled back the other, looking suspiciously the delicate cup in front of him. After rolling his eyes to the ceiling and back, Aziraphale thought it was better if he kept talking  
  
<Look, what I was trying to say is that... I don't want to fight. I, we, want only to be forgotten. Don't bother with us, we will stay here, on Earth, and never return or mingle with your affairs... another End of Days permitting. I'm truly sorry for what happened to Ligur>  
  
<You... you knew Ligur too? And my name... you know me?> Hastur interrupt him, only now processing what he heard. The angel gave a quick look to Crowley, of course he could not say that was all training for the trial, learning name, faces and so on: in the past 6000 years, his demon talked about his "colleagues", so Aziraphale too knew something about them  
  
<I... well, I've know Crowley for a long time and we sometimes talked about each other place of work, so to speak. I know that you are a Duke of Hell, impressive if I may say, the humans surely look to you with fear and respect, your work throught history it's remarkable, for a demon, I mean.> Hastur nodded absent-minded, another question right on his toungue  
  
<Why do you want to stay with one of us?>  
  
Aziraphale remained without words at this. What could he say? He didn't want to put Crowley in an odd position, of course maybe it was good for him, all the "corrupting a celestial being" but if not? If that was too much to accept out loud? What if denies it? Maybe he could try and sound indifferent, like 

_"Oh, I merely enjoy the company, no that I love him more than anything, I would give my life for him and his kisses are better than Heaven",_ yeah, sure, good work on the "sound indifferent" part. He paused, lost in his thought, unsure on what saying, what could be the right thing...  
  
<Because he loves me, madly, and I love him, deeply> a well known voice snapped him out, greeted by the soft smile on his lover face, very happy to being able to say that out loud.  
  
<You cannot love, Crowley, you're a fucking demon> replied Hastur, baffled at the information but calling bullsith on it. It wasn't possible, absurd  
  
<We _can_ love, we just decide not to. Because it's simpler. Because the last time we loved someone, She casted us out, turning her back on us and it _hurts_.> he sounded so broken that Aziraphale's heart tighten, wanting only to reach out and hug him, so tight that all the pieces could get back together. But he stayed in his place, only looking down, like it was his fault in some way  
  
<I... what... what is like?> Hastur asked, after a few minutes of silence  
  
<it's good. You cannot believe it, at first. You always expect something bad, to be mocked, to be refused. But the time passes and nothing bad happens. The only sight of that person can make you smile, the days seems better. You actually want him to touch you> Crowley described, the yellow eyes fixed on Aziraphale, a soft gaze, a lovely one, that made the angel blush again  
  
<And you... want to touch demons?> the phrase sounded wrong, but at the moment he couldn't think of a better way to say it  
  
<Well, yes, of course. Not all of them, only... my demon> replied, with a little embarassment but without shy back, looking at his lover in similar way. Hastur went silent for another couple of minutes, the eyes darting, like he was trying to understand something too complicate for him. The angel sighed and got up, already regretting his decision as he crossed the space and sit on Crowley's lap, earning the same look that he did on the Wall of the Garden, learning about the sword. Hastur let out a small cry, like someone was about to catch fire, but when everything was normal, he couldn't look away  
  
<He is... so close... how can you...?> the Duke tried to say and Aziraphale knew what he meant. In Hell all was claustrophobic, all touching each other, constantly, without a space for themself. It was after Crowley explained that the angel understood the minimalistic choices of his friend: on the other hand, finally the demon grasped why the bookshop was always full and cluttered, after hearing and seeing what's Heaven like. Living together now, they compromised and get a bit of both, like the perfect bouquet of an exquisite aged wine. Crowley interwined their fingers before talking again  
  
<I repeat, it's not bad. It's really good, if it's the right person. There are days that I stay all time with him, curled on his arm or on his neck in my snake form. Or in my human form, for what it matters, expecially at night, in bed and...>  
  
<CROWLEY! Ehm, sorry Hastur, he seems to enjoy embarassing me> Aziraphale screamed at first, then regain his composture, while the demon smirked and kissed the back of the angel's hand apologizing (it was false. Crowley really treasures that kind of reaction, savoring it extremely pleased). Without even thinking, completely in awe for the situation, Hastur picked up the cup, miracling the tea in whiskey: not because he was scared it maybe be blessed, but because, Hell, he needed something more strong for this. After a couple of shots, he was ready again  
  
<You. Are saying. That you. Lie... together... also?> the words came out really awkward but he was not ready to say all the things out loud. Now Aziraphale really burned up, blushing up to his ears, covering his eyes with the free hand. His lover, instead, was thrilled  
  
<Of course! Have you seen my angel? It's gorgeous! How can I say no to all this? And, I really need to tell you, it's amazing. Nothing like doing with a human. Nothing like nothing else! Sometimes I just lie down and...>  
  
<C...CROWLEY! PLEASE! I... my dear, I think that... that our guest can understand on his own, he don't need a picture> pleaded the blonde, one step close to discorporate due excessive embarassment. But Hastur seemed as lost as before. He cupped his hands around the porcelain and drinked again, more to gain courage that anything else  
  
<You... seems... happy> whispered eventually, looking at the rug. It was so broken and hurt that Aziraphale felt that too: he was a being of love, after all, all that sorrow really affected him. With a beseeching look at his demon (who cannot say no at those blue puppy eyes) went to kneel in front of Hastur, putting a hand on his forearm, with all the delicacy possible, like he was approaching a frightened animal  
  
<I'm so, so sorry. I cannot imagine what is like, but you are not garbage. You are not a disgusting thing, you matter. Yes, we maybe are on opposite sides, but you are not less than me. We can... be friends, if you like.> he smiled saying this and the Duke of Hell weeped at the sight. It was too much. How someone as pure as an angel wanted to have something in common with him? He was revolting, a being of evil and corruption  
  
<I don't need your pity> growled -as much as a crying man could do- back, but the other didn't lose his smile  
  
<It is not. I really want to know more of you, if you agree of course.> the pure image of the blond shook the demon to the core. He couldn't trust another demon but... and angel? The weight, light, of the hand on his forearm was nice, after all, a little, shaky, smile creeped in.  
  
In all of this, Crowley was still in his armchair unable to move, literally destroying the armrests, crushing them under his hands. He was furious that Aziraphale was that close to someone else (another demon too!), but could see how the posture of Hastur was changing. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he needed to admit to himself that his angel was doing a the goodest thing imaginable. But stars, a chanting of "mine, mine, MINE" was pulsing in his head and the constant thought of nailing down that beautiful thing, worshipping his entire gorgeous body, reminding him all his love and devotion (and possession. Crowley was really clingy in that way. More or less because he still couldn't believe that Aziraphale shared the same feelings and was always scared of losing him) was everything he could think in that moment. He eventually started to calm down when Aziraphale got back to him, ruffling his hair and kissing his forehead: with that look, he could get away with everything.  
  
  
Hours passed and Hastur relaxed a bit, so much that the angel didn't need to use the Word again. They talked (yes, Crowley too, even with a little too much of snarky comebacks), the Duke showed his animal form (a massive bullfrog), that Aziraphale described as "strong and beautiful" making the demon blush when he turned back, exchanged stories and even some little secrets like how good was the life on Earth. It turned out that Hastur really loved the sushi, making a strange noise when eating and one time grabbed a bite (stealing it from Crowley) with his toungue, using it like a frog. The angel laughed about this, more for the expression of his lover ("I didn't want it anyway! I don't eat! Pft!" was his response) than for anything else, but in general was a really good night. They switched on wine, get a little drunk and ended it when the sun started coming back up, after a dreadful disco dance contest between the demons, that made Aziraphale squirt the wine off his nose due the laughter. Both claimed victory and shake hands (maybe with a little too much strenght), then it was time for goodbyes. The angel wrapped up some delicacies, sweets and pastries, for the Duke to enjoy later and said that he was always welcome there.  
The morning was a little cold, but Hastur felt warm inside. He was smiling, walking down the road, munching some of the cookies and thinking where to move in London (maybe not too distant from the bookshop) when the thought struck him  
  
<I want an angel too.>


End file.
